by Tamara Sneed
“I’m sorry, Quinn—”
She held up her hand at the genuine concern shining in his eyes. “That’s not the whole truth, or even the half-truth, but the truth is pretty boring. Predictable, even.”
Wyatt looked confused again. Quinn realized it was because he probably never lied and the concept confused him. “You lied to your sisters?”
“It wasn’t a complete lie,” she said, defensively. “I did give my money to a self-proclaimed financial guru, and he did steal a lot from me, but I got it all back. The NYPD is much better than I thought.”
“Why the lie?”
“Because the truth is so much more embarrassing,” she muttered with a sigh. “When I first landed the role of Sephora, I was so grateful to get a job, any job, but then…then Sephora became a phenomenon, one of the most popular characters in daytime television. The network did a poll and announced that more people knew who Sephora Barstow was than knew who the vice-president of the United States was. Some people claim that after my popularity took off, I became different.”
“Did you?”
For the first time since Quinn had been fired from the show, she could admit the truth. “I was a bitch. Nothing was good enough—not the wardrobe, the hair, the makeup, the script. I alienated all of my cast mates and the directors. I threw things at people, near people, around people. I was a terror to work with.” At his horrified expression, she laughed and said, “Relax, Wyatt. The evil bitch got her comeuppance in the end.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I deserved it. After I screamed at an extra to stop looking at me and tipped over his wheelchair because he was in my way—I didn’t know he was really disabled, I thought the wheelchair was a prop—the cast and crew collectively went to the show’s producers and said they would all quit if I wasn’t fired. The producers had tolerated me for years because I was Sephora and the fans loved me, but they couldn’t risk losing the entire show. So the next week, Sephora was diagnosed with a rare flesh-eating illness and died. It was an open-casket funeral.”
“Oh, Quinn. The show meant a lot to you.”
She wiped at an errant tear, surprised that she still was able to cry over it. “But I’ll show them,” she said, firmly. “When I’m standing on the stage of the Kodak Theatre with my Oscar, I’ll thank them for getting rid of me because it forced me to elevate my career to the next level.” When Wyatt continued to stare at her with that sympathetic expression, she murmured softly, “But I do miss it. I miss it a lot.”
“You were on that show for most of your adult life. Of course you miss it. No one would expect anything less.”
She laughed through her suddenly blurred vision. “I haven’t admitted that to anyone, even myself. I can’t believe I told you.”
Wyatt smiled and held up his beer glass. “To Sephora.”
Quinn laughed and clinked her glass against his. “To Sephora.”
The two drank their beers, their gazes holding, until Wyatt abruptly looked away. Quinn slowly set the glass down, feeling something monumental shift into place. She didn’t know what it was, but something was different between them.
She asked softly, “Why are you so nice to me, Wyatt?”
His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he dropped his gaze to his plate. He finally mumbled, “I’m nice to everyone.”
“But I don’t deserve it.”
“No, you probably don’t,” he agreed, then sent her one of his earth-shattering smiles.
“And I haven’t been very nice to you, have I?”
His smile faded. “No, you haven’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. It kept me in reality. I would have made a fool of myself over you by now with as much as I wanted you. But, because you always kept me at arm’s length—hell, the length of the state of Wyoming—we can be friends now. And I can truly say that I like having you as a friend.” He abruptly laughed and added, “Of course, that doesn’t mean you’re getting the house. You still have to work for it, but I do promise I’ll talk to Mom because that’s what friends are for.”
“Friends,” she murmured with a forced smile.
For some reason, being friends with Wyatt made her lose her appetite. She pushed the plate away and focused on her beer, while her new “friend” devoured his food and hers.
Wyatt parked his SUV in front of the Sibley house and turned to Quinn, who sat trying to look innocent. Innocent, his ass. She had tortured him throughout lunch with soft moans and flirtatious laughs, and then had spent the entire car ride twirling her hair and playing with the buttons on her cardigan. Wyatt doubted that Quinn was doing any of it on purpose, but being in such a small space with her for such a long time had made him more conscious of her. Her sweet smell. The honey-blond glints in her hair. Her long legs. Even the sound of her breathing set his blood on fire.
“Thanks for lunch,” Quinn murmured.
Wyatt clenched the steering wheel to force himself not to move toward her. As the scent of apples and sugar washed over him, his gaze dropped to her lips. They were so perfect. So beautiful. So close to his…Wyatt snapped himself out of his daze. He could not think about kissing Quinn. He was in love—well, close to being in serious like—with Dorrie.
“Wyatt, look at me,” Quinn whispered. Against his will, he turned to her. She leaned toward him and his gaze instantly dropped to her mouth. The sound of his gulp filled the quiet interior of the car. “I know you’ve wanted to kiss me for a long time, and I’m going to give you your chance. Your last chance before you become chained to Dorrie.”
He laughed in disbelief and amazement at her arrogance, but then again, she had every reason to be arrogant. “Quinn—”
She didn’t wait for him to finish; she pressed her lips against his. He gripped the steering wheel as a shock of emotions slammed into his body, instantly making him hard. Her lips were so soft, so sweet. So damn perfect. It was one of the most innocent kisses he had experienced since junior high school—and the most erotic.
She leaned back with that secret smile of hers, and he cursed and grabbed her arms. Her cry of surprise was cut off as his mouth slammed against hers. She tensed as he dragged her across the seat to practically sit in his lap. He used her shock to slip his tongue into her mouth and search for all the hidden cavities. He found them. Honey and peaches. Her mouth reminded him of honey and peaches on a hot summer day.
Then her tongue touched his. Tentatively. He moaned and silently encouraged her, his hands caressing her arms, itching to travel over every inch of the body that he had worshipped from afar for so long. She became more bold and her tongue became more bold, dipping into his mouth, dueling with his tongue. All of her wet sweetness poured into his mouth.
He groaned and dragged one hand into her hair, the silk strands falling over his hand, adding another layer of sweetness. One of her hands moved to the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer. She wanted him. Quinn Sibley wanted him, and it scared the hell out of him. He tried to pull away, but she clung to his bottom lip, nipped his top one. Hung on to the back of his neck, her other hand wrapped around his right biceps.
They devoured each other’s mouths with sweeping, drugging kisses that lasted for days and hours. Kissing away all of the sexual tension that had been between them since they shook hands in the kitchen. Her tongue was like a spark that lit pinpricks of arousal everywhere it swept. Her hands on him were demanding, wanting.
Wyatt was getting too hot, too aroused. His hand on her arm began to travel to her breast. Then through the last vestige of common decency, he remembered where they were and pulled from her lips.
Their heavy breathing filled the cabin of the car. Wyatt dragged a hand down his face, then chanced looking at her. Bad move. Her lips were swollen, and her hair was tangled from his hands. It was her eyes that did him in, though. She wanted him. He could doubt himself with the kiss, but not with that smoldering look in her eyes.
She bit her swollen bottom lip, sending him a
look that should have been bronzed in a statue, then quickly moved out the car.
Wyatt told himself to drive away. He needed to drive away and rethink, regroup. But instead he opened the door and started after her.
“Quinn—” She turned to him with an expectant look in her eyes and Wyatt’s next sentence stuck in his throat.
The two stared at each other, and Wyatt wondered how long it would take to throw her in the backseat and drive to the closest place that would not include her sister or Graham being within screaming distance.
“Quinn!” Kendra shouted, storming down the porch steps.
Quinn turned from Wyatt to her sister, and Wyatt suddenly was able to breathe again. To think again. He didn’t want to sleep with Quinn. Well, of course, he did. Especially after that kiss. But he wouldn’t because he wanted a future with…What was her name again? Dorrie. He shook his head. Had Quinn really just kissed him? His body was still trembling, so she must have, but his mind hadn’t quite caught up with the speed of events.
“Where the hell have you been?” Kendra demanded as she dragged Quinn into a tight embrace. Wearing a black pin-striped minisuit and stiletto heels, she looked like the power broker she was.
Wyatt didn’t like to admit it, but Kendra scared him slightly. But then again, Kendra probably scared hardened criminals. Kendra was as frighteningly beautiful as her two sisters—the same delicate-shaped almond eyes, unblemished skin and tall frame. But there was also a hardness about Kendra, probably due to the fact that she could bench-press Wyatt with one arm. She didn’t have overly defined muscles, but everything about her was muscled and athletic. Nothing was impossible as far as Kendra was concerned.
Kendra pushed Quinn away, as if the hug had lasted too long, then blew her silky, dark chin-length hair from her face and pointed toward the roof. “There is a Santa Claus on the roof, Quinn. I am actually staying in a house that has a Santa Claus on the roof.”
Wyatt hid his laugh at the six-foot, helium-filled dark brown-skinned Santa Clause slightly waving in the wind on the roof of the house. The round figure held one hand up in a wave and another hand held reins to—what else—the reindeer. It was giant and tacky, and Wyatt could just imagine Graham biting his tongue as he did Charlie’s bidding.
“Charlie,” Quinn guessed, staring at the Santa Claus.
“Who else?” Kendra turned her back on the house to study Quinn from head to foot. “I can see you’ve already gotten started on the holiday eating.”
“Bite me, Kendra,” Quinn snapped.
Wyatt shook his head, amused. The two sisters definitely did not relate in the traditional sister way. They related more like two prizefighters who had engaged in multiple bouts and now had a wary, healthy respect for each other.
“What are you laughing at, cowboy?” Kendra snarled, glaring at Wyatt.
“Kendra,” Quinn warned.
“Hello, Kendra. It’s good to see you again,” Wyatt said, then moved cautiously toward her for a hug. He never knew if Kendra would bite or kick. Instead, she hugged him back. Hard. Wyatt tried to hide his surprise at how thin she felt under the suit she wore. He pulled back and studied her, and noticed with surprise that she didn’t meet his gaze but was instead glaring at Quinn.
“You and I need to talk,” Kendra said while pointing a finger at Quinn. “You order me out here, then disappear on the morning I’m supposed to arrive. I just spent three hours stringing popcorn. Stringing popcorn, Quinn?” She turned to Wyatt and demanded, “Do I look like a woman who strings popcorn?”
“No,” Wyatt instantly responded since she looked like she actually wanted an answer.
“Exactly,” Kendra said, firmly. “Quinn owes me. Big.”
“Is the party out here?” Charlie greeted as she walked out the house and down the stairs toward them. She placed an arm around Kendra, who looked distinctly uncomfortable at the touch. “Kendra got here just in time, didn’t she, Quinn? The church choir is going caroling tomorrow night and has invited all members to join.”
Kendra looked horrified as she stated, “I don’t sing under any circumstances, let alone Christmas carols.”
“We’re singing Christmas carols,” Charlie said, with a rare glint in her eye that meant business.
“Apparently, I’m singing Christmas carols,” Kendra said dully.
“Welcome to hell, Kendra,” Graham said, lifting a cup of eggnog in salute as he joined the group in the yard. Charlie stuck her tongue out at him. Graham instantly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his arms to place a quick kiss on her lips. Graham smiled down at his wife, then eyed Wyatt for a moment before he said, “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you for the last two hours. I want to invite a few friends over tonight. Grill outside, have some beers. A little pre-Christmas party. What do you think?”
Wyatt chanced a quick glance at Quinn, who was studiously avoiding his eyes. He could not see her tonight, or any night for that matter. He was going to incorporate a strictly no-Quinn policy from here on out. He just wished his lips would stop tingling, as if reliving every nip of her teeth and tug of her lips on his.
“We’re having a party tonight?” Kendra asked sarcastically. “Oh, goodie. Cowboys, cowgirls and beer. What more could a girl ask for?”
“It’ll be fun, Kendra,” Graham said, with an annoyed glance in her direction before turning to Wyatt. “Won’t it?”
“I can’t make it tonight, Graham,” Wyatt said, carefully avoiding Quinn’s eyes. “I have some paperwork to finish at home. We’re getting a new drain. And then Velma Spears wants to talk to me about changing her backyard. She wants to get away from the cactuses like I’ve been suggesting for the past two years to drought-resistant flowers.”
Wyatt knew that he was babbling when Graham’s lips quirked into a smile and Kendra looked instantly annoyed.
“Anyway, so I need to work,” Wyatt murmured in conclusion.
“That’ll take two hours tops. Come on,” Graham practically pleaded then glanced at the Sibley sisters and said in a stage whisper, “Frankly, I’m outnumbered here. I need some menfolk around to even things out.”
Charlie playfully pushed Graham, who laughed, and began to tickle her in the mid-section. She shrieked and tried to evade his reach.
“I feel like I’m in a condom commercial,” Kendra muttered dryly, rolling her eyes, before she turned to Wyatt and Quinn. Her gaze flickered from one to the other, suspicion written across her face.
“You two both were un-reachable at the same time and I distinctly saw Quinn get out of Wyatt’s SUV, which could only lead to one conclusion—you two were together. Somewhere. Not answering your cell phones,” Kendra said.
“We just went to lunch,” Quinn said with a small shrug.
“Yeah, it was just lunch,” Wyatt muttered, then glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Tonight, party, nine o’clock,” Graham said.
Wyatt nodded reluctantly, then got into his SUV and sped away before he looked at Quinn again.
Chapter 10
“Talk. Now,” Kendra demanded.
Quinn sighed at the sight of her two sisters standing over her on the back porch and set down the movie script next to her on the swing. She had been able to avoid her sisters for the last two hours since Charlie had been obsessed with torturing them all with Christmas cheer, and Kendra had been too busy complaining about that to deal with Quinn. But it looked as if Quinn’s grace period had ended. She still wasn’t ready to face them. Not when she was still recovering from That Kiss. She never would have thought that a cowboy mortician in the middle of Sibleyville could kiss like that—or that she would have been counting the seconds, minutes and hours until she could get him to do it again.
“What are we supposed to talk about?” Quinn asked, batting her eyelashes at Kendra. Kendra frowned, while Charlie sat on the swing next to Quinn.
“We want to talk about exchanging Christmas gifts,” Kendra said dryly, then snappe
d, “you and Wyatt, dork. The reason you ordered me to get my ass on a plane and fly here in the middle of Christmas.”
Charlie’s expression fell and she sounded hurt as she said to Kendra, “I thought you were here for Christmas because you wanted to spend time with us.”
Kendra groaned and leaned against the porch railing, while crossing her arms. “I’m not a Christmas person, Charlie. You know that.”
“But we only have each other now. You can’t spend Christmas alone, without us,” Charlie protested.
“You’re not alone, Charlie. You have a husband,” Kendra snarled.
Quinn was surprised by the venom and jealousy in Kendra’s voice. She glanced at Charlie, who looked as surprised as she felt. There was an awkward silence in the air as Kendra stared at the hills in the distance.
“Kendra—”
Kendra cut off Charlie’s hesitant tone and said, gruffly, “I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day. I’m jet-lagged and I’m cranky and tired. I haven’t been able to exercise, and you know what lack of exercise does to me.”
Charlie looked uncertain, but nodded after a few seconds. Kendra cleared her throat and turned to Quinn. “Now, I need an explanation about you and Wyatt and why it looked like you two were ending a date rather than you blackmailing him to do your bidding.”
“Blackmail?” Charlie squeaked, looking at Quinn with wide eyes. “You’re blackmailing Wyatt?”
“Of course not,” Quinn snapped with a pointed stare at Kendra. “Wyatt and I just have a small understanding and we had lunch to talk about that.”
“All you did was have lunch?” Kendra asked, doubtfully.
“Do you think we had sex in the back of his SUV? Of course we just had lunch.” She used every one of her acting skills to refrain from blushing or giggling. It was technically the truth. There had been no sex in the back of the SUV, but if Quinn and Wyatt had had another two seconds alone in that SUV, she would have had to lie.